Music to My Ears
by Hese Solstis
Summary: A famous pianist prodigy? A rising rock star? It makes no difference really. They all just choose the persona best suited for them; look at the camera, smile and wave. Giving the others a glimpse of what really lies underneath is simply too scary. AU
1. Chapter 1: We Are What We Hide

Chapter 1: We Are What We Hide

_If there was but one thing I regret in this life, _

_It's not having enough facades to shield myself,_

_Away from the prying eyes of everyone else._

Vienna

A soft smile was pressed firmly upon her luscious, cherry-red lips as she entered the stage with effortless grace. The soft clanking of her black stilettos announced their owner's long-awaited arrival to the sea of audience, perched high on seemingly unlimited rows of seats.

Everywhere her cool amethyst looked; there was another impatient face of an avid fan awaiting the sound of sweet symphony from her slender fingers against those gleaming polished keys of the Steinway Grand Piano that was placed no less than 20 steps away from her.

Nothing but eerie silence filled her ears as she slowly glided across the wooden floor.

Her silky smooth ebony locks found themselves braided and pulled into a neat sophisticated chignon, a few of the lucky strands escaped their fates and were left framing her heart-shaped face. The smooth ivory skin complimented its owner's jet black lots perfectly. She mentally counted the distance between the gleaming white Steinway from herself.

A lavender coloured, strapless chiffon gown that ended right above her knees wrapped itself along her petite form, accenting her curves and dips. Smiling, she turned to wave at a few of her faithful fans that hid themselves among the crowd.

Most of them however only nodded back, she sighed but still keeping that etched smile. She should have expected no less from her fans.

Conscious of how their own image was being projected to the outside world, they were hard to please and yet still painfully polite to others, always reluctant to let others to have a little glimpse beyond what their icy cold facades and stolid emotions held.

They were quite simply her kindred souls.

The gleaming white instrument lay despondent and eerily silent without her touch. Like a second instinct long since ingrained itself into her, her fingers placed themselves onto the numerous keys, some black and others white, savoring the cool feel of polished key notes against her snow white skin. She inhaled a sharp breath while she could feel the excitement of her fans buzzing itself across the stage. The limelight was once again focused on her.

On Kuchiki Rukia and her gleaming Steinway piano.

XXXX

Shifting her position slightly on her cushioned stool, she lightly stretched her fingers before giving a nod to the host on the far end of the stage. The man nodded back, grinning from ear to ear. The microphone on his left hand gleamed as he made his announcement. It was time.

_ Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, the last performer of the great 23__rd__ Seireitei New Year Charity Concert, the young but ever-so talented pianist Kuchiki Rukia performing one of Mozart's greatest pieces of all times. _

She can be whoever she wanted to be when she was Kuchiki Rukia the pianist.

_Haydn. Bach. Liszt. Mozart. Beethoven._

She knew all of them. Their symphonies, melodies and notes held the passage to her escape from the cruel and harsh reality of real life. She was protected here from the evils of the world and the sorrow and gloom of deaths. She was untouchable.

Her curved fingers danced tirelessly against the black and white keys. Every slur, every tie. Every single note in that piece was played flawlessly. Her audiences were enthralled by her sweet, lulling music. They didn't want the music to stop.

They didn't want the music to stop and face the cruel reality of everyday life, where heartbreak and death lurk along every unexpected corner. They wanted the illusion of happiness and joy to last a little longer.

_Just a little longer._

She shut her eyes, reveling at the moment, how everything seemed to fit so perfectly with each other. The world itself couldn't have been better. Her fingers glided themselves across the keys, caught up in a dance of their own, time ceased to matter.

But she herself knew all too well that this world was anything but. She wished that the song could last forever, and lose herself in the illusion of happiness and serenity, drawn and held by those angelic notes until the very end of time.

Unfortunately, like all good things in this barren world, it was not to be. With a soft touch at her final note, the music too came to an end. Wearily, she stood up from her stool, giving a polite bow to all her fans and fellow musicians. Her audiences stood up immediately, clapping, whistling, expressing their general love and admiration of the petite pianist before them.

Rukia could only nod and smile politely. There were no words coming from those painted lips of hers.

Not a sigh, not a groan. Not even a thank you.

She just stood and waved, with that fake smile of hers plastered upon her lips. The concerto was finally over. She was once again left alone, abandoned even by her kindred souls.

Loneliness plagued her everywhere she went, every time she turned around the corner. It was like a curse she was destined to bear.

_Why me?_

XXXX

She used to ask herself that particular question over and over again. Every friend she made, every blood kin she had she was destined to loss and mourn for. Her okaa-sama, obaa-sama, Kaien-dono. They were all the same.

Fate was such a cruel little pair of scissors, so intent upon cutting and severing her ties to the outside world and the very threads that held her afloat, hell-bent on sending her adrift on the seemingly-endless blue sea, drifting away with the currents of change without anything to hold onto, anyone to lean onto.

In the end, the only way for her to keep her sanity and preventing herself from getting hurt was to put up a front in front of everyone else, making them see what their own shallow eyes wanted to see, keeping a safe distance between them and the real Rukia who hid behind her intrepid shell.

After all, why risk the chance of enduring pain and heartbreak, if you know they're all destined to leave you one day? Bonds and ties they made with each other in this world are and will never be strong enough to withstand the sharp edges of fate.

The crowd soon found itself dissipating. Slowly, the sea of people evaporated until all that was left was Kuchiki Rukia sitting on her cushion stool, her forefinger still lingering on the A# note on her right, the sound echoed hollowly in the empty auditorium.

Above her, the lights dimmed.

XXXX

_Kuchiki-san, do you wish to stay for a little longer? We could ask the personnel to pack up slower if you want. It was a great performance, by the way._

She shook her head, declining the host's kind offer.

"Thank you for your time, Killua-san. I apologized for the trouble I have caused,"

And with that, she left the stage, her fingers clenched into hard little fists while still clutching the chiffon material of her evening gown. Heads turned, as she made her way out of the concerto hall. Inwardly, she cursed as the bright camera flashes captured shots after shots.

Out of its accord, her Kuchiki trained smile crept its way onto her luscious lips. Mentally, she chided herself for not using the backward entrance and for forgetting her thick fur coat. The concerto hall may be warm from the central heater and its audiences, outside however was just another frosty night in winter.

She sighed. It was just another painful remainder to her naïve self that she was once again back in reality, forced to face the music of a different melody.

One she had grown both to detest and fear overtime.

XXXX

_Rukia-chan, can I have your autograph?_

_Kuchiki-san, how did it feel to be performing on the same stage with classical music legends like Kyoraku Shunsui, Jushiro Ukitake and others?_

_Rukia-sama, marry me!_

She ignored the calls, signing as many autographs as she could, pretending she couldn't hear a single of those annoying questions directed towards her.

All of these were done with a plastered but practiced smile that seemed real on the outside but never truly reaches her mesmerizing eyes.

Nimbly, she climbed into her sleek black limousine; releasing a breath she had been unknowingly holding as the crowd of people slowly disappeared from sight.

She looked out of the window. Brilliant lights of all shapes and sizes paved the roads. She remained oblivious to their existence, lost in her own world of endless white, where the only thing that made sense there was music.

Like so many of her fellow musicians, she was searching for her own notes and melodies in the wide, deep blue ocean of fate, braving the storms for the simple sake of catching that single little unfinished tune.

Her friends, the audiences, her fans, the music critics, the host, everyone.

They all saw Kuchiki Rukia the new-rising pianist, taking the classical music world by storm, enchanting the masses with her outstanding piano skills, sweet smiles and overall determination and hard work.

What they didn't see was, Kuchiki Rukia the woman, caught in the swirling whirlpool with a sinking vessel, holding onto the steers for dear life.

Nobody saw her drowning in the sea of music.

Her music.

* * *

Australia

He held his electric blue guitar protectively in his arms. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. The tight leather suits he and his fellow band members had on, was starting to cling uncomfortably onto their sweaty bodies. Using the back of his right palm, he quickly wiped his forehead.

The summer heat was truly starting to smell. Below him, their fans were shouting his name, chanting it, urging him to give them more ground-breaking performances. They wanted more.

Everywhere his looked, there was a banner with a printed message for him and his band members, ranging from simple 'SHINIGAMIS ROCK!' to somewhat embarrassing proposals like 'MARRY ME, ICHIGO'.

He chuckled good-naturedly. It was a nice feeling to be adored and admired by the mass. As of this moment, Kurosaki Ichigo, lead singer of Shinigami was truly happy and felt as if he had everything in the world he could ever want. Chart topping hits, crazy hoards of fans, endorsement deals from companies like 'Kuchiki Inc.' and more.

He smirked and the girls in the crowd immediately swooned, eliciting a loud and piercing fan girl shrieks to fill the open air arena. He motioned for his lead guitarist to signal their fireworks expert standing behind the stage.

The New Year party was officially coming to an end for the Shinigamis and their faithful, screeching fans.

A quick nod from Chad was all the indication our orange-headed lead singer needed. Placing the earpiece closer to his mouth, he started the countdown.

"Let's start the countdown, people!"

His husky baritone voice rang out like a clear siren in the midst of chaotic noises. His other band members followed suit. More voice and shrieking soon joined the countdown. His fans were jumping up and down in excitement, chanting on top of their voices.

"3, 2, 1, 0!"

Fireworks went sent hurtling towards the sky, exploding in myriads of vibrant colours, sometimes a shade of maroon pink tinted with purple and at other times a shock of pure blue followed up by a nice shade of forest green. The midnight sky soon became a canvas decorated with spots and hues of colours and cheers.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR, SYNDNEY!"

Ichigo shouted as he flung his black, sweaty leather jacket into the crowd of cheering fans.

_Happy New Year, okaa-chan._

_

* * *

_

**Soul Searching**

Seireitei's Artist of the Month- Kuchiki Rukia

_By Claudine Mariette_

You know you've got the ties to boast when you call the legendary music producer/ power icon of hip hop music Urahara Kisuke as your godfather.

You know you've got the looks when you could do a bikini photo shoot with the model goddess, Matsumoto Rangiku without being overshadowed.

And last but not least, you know you've nailed your spot in the music scene both classical and otherwise when legends like Ukitake Jushiro and Kyoraku Shunsui have you on their list of 'favourite new artists on the scene'.

All in all, you know you've got it in you to make it big in just about anywhere when you're the Pianist of Ice, Kuchiki Rukia- Seireitei's Artist of the Month, featuring her new album _'__Soul Searching'_.

So Rukia, why '_Soul Searching_'?

"The title is a bit odd, isn't it?"Rukia laughed.

"But basically, it's a quote from my obaa-sama. I remember when I was ten and went on one of obaa-sama's grand search of musical inspiration, she called it her 'Soul Searching Expedition". We bought the tickets and along the way I suddenly remembered something. So I asked, "obaa-sama, where are we going?" And she said, "I don't know." Turns out we ended up in Alaska wearing summer clothes, thinking we boarded the plane going for Hawaii! From then on, the title just kind of stuck itself to mind."

Her debut album, _Shine_ sold more than 20 million copies worldwide, earning her the title of Pianist of Ice and the first pianist from the classical music scene to ever own a chart-topper on Billboard.

_Tsukihana_ stayed on the chart for 2 consecutive weeks. That is, by no means an easy feat.

Does Rukia feel the pressure of producing a new album after _Shine_'s grand success?

"Pressure, it's always there. Is it okay to add in some vocal? Will the fans accept collaborations with other artists from different music background? How will the fans react to _"Soul Searching'_ after a three-year gap? In the beginning, the song choices were rather different from those I grew up with. I tended to lean more towards classical and country, but overtime the tunes and melodies started to make sense. And all of a sudden, I was playing Blues on the piano, dancing to Pop tunes alongside Nelliel and singing rap with Shuhei. It was a wonderful experience. I'm happy with how '_Soul Searching'_ has turned out and fans of _Shine_ will definitely love the sequel. If they don't, then I guess they're already tired of little _old_ me," joked the 20 year- old teen.

The raven-haired pianist also performed alongside music legends Ukitake Jushiro and Kyoraku Shunsui during the recent 23rd Seireitei New Year Charity Concert. According to them, the prodigy handled the pressure and their over-whelming presence very well.

Shunsui even joked that it was like they were performing right alongside her grandmother, Kuchiki Yuko in the flesh. Did her prior experience with her grandmother help her pull through?

"It definitely did. I basically grew up behind the scenes following obaa-sama as she hits her worldwide tour destinations. I did _Für Elise_ during one of her tours in Germany. Not only was it my official debut as a professional, I also shared the same stage with her. It was nerve-wrecking. Obaa-sama said I looked as if I'm going to throw up. Right in front of 10 thousand audiences. She said '_just trust your soul to do the best and let music do the rest_'. And that's been my motto ever since. It helped me pull through nervous performances, especially when dealing with stars like Jushiro-ji-sama and Shunsui-ji-sama," smiled Rukia.

Calling the legendary music idols as uncles, girl you must be either very talented or very charming.

Rumors had it that sparks had been flying between Rukia and Shuhei. According to the personnel behind the scenes, the two reportedly had a great chemistry inside and outside of the studio. Shuhei had reportedly even going so far as to call Rukia by her pet name, _Ru-chan_ and treating her to dinner every night during the collaboration. Will we be hearing any wedding bells in the future?

Apparently, not as the petite pianist simply shook her head and laughed. "You guys are unbelievable! Everybody on set calls me '_Ru-chan_', thanks to Ran-chan's visit during one of the recording sessions. Shuhei's tends to favour tall, leggy blonde models. I think 'friends' or even 'best friends' is going to be the only form of relationship between us. Besides, I hear Hitsugaya Toshiro is going to be doing a duet with me next month. You tell me, whether I'll be hearing any wedding bells soon?" she questioned playfully.

When asked about plans concerning her coming 21st birthday on January the fourteenth, Rukia simply smiled coyly, refusing to give us any information on that particular subject.

A secret meeting with _Prince Charming_?

A friend's only birthday bash in one of the hottest club downtown?

A quiet dinner between family members?

Whatever it is, the secretive artist refused to tell, choosing instead to simply smirk and say the infamous line of _maybe_.

To end the interview, we asked Rukia who was her favourite artist of the moment. Surprisingly, our petite pianist picked another fellow Japanese singer/ band, the Shinigamis or more specifically their lead singer, Kurosaki Ichigo.

Does she have a secret crush on the orange-haired hunk?

The pianist refused to give us a direct answer. "I have Shuhei to thank for introducing me to the band's music though. Shuhei is actually a die-hard fan of the Shinigamis, especially their lead guitarist, Chad. I look forward for collaboration with the Shinigamis in the future. And I know, Shuhei will definitely weep of joy if he's ever invited in."

Well, good luck with your album, Rukia. May your soul search be complete. Who knows? You might even stumble upon a certain sexy as sin orange-haired lead singer along the way. Just don't forget who hooked you guys up in the first place if that ever happens.

To all her faithful fans out there, don't forget that Kuchiki Rukia's _Soul Searching _is due for release on 2nd of April.

It's an event you do not want to miss.

* * *

**HAPPY NEW YEAR, SYNDNEY!**

_By Jonathan Cole_

That's right, folks. Make no mistake. His hair colour is natural and he's from Japan. I'm talking about the one and only Kurosaki Ichigo, lead singer of Shinigamis.

Seen above is him throwing his leather jacket into the crowd during their New Year gig last night. And my, did it cause a frenzy!

Judging by the ways the fans are jealously pushing against each other to claim the black coat, I'll say the rumors of their tickets sold out even before their first week is an authentic report.

With their first stop in New Jersey, America before making their way all around the globe, the group finally ended their worldwide tour in Sydney, Australia.

Right after their New Year gig ended, yours truly had a chance to meet face to face with the famous lead singer. Even though he and the gang were visibly worn out from the gig, he still agreed to sit down for a 15-minute interview all done sporting a pair of tight leather pants and a flimsy wife-beater.

You can definitely tell that this singer is one down-to-earth, friendly dude who's both considerate, charming and here to stay by making good music we all genuinely love and adore.

Even the great power icon of Hip hop music, Urahara Kisuke was reported to describe them as "a breath of fresh air from rock star wannabes that can only yell and scream profanities in their songs."

Kurosaki Ichigo and his gang, the Shinigamis are without doubt the hottest new band in town, from their wide-ranged song genres, awesome wardrobe outfits right down to their heart-felt lyrics and melodies composed by the band members themselves, there's no mistake that these guys are a talented bunch of artists who just might own the music scene in the future.

In fact, I'll say that's what they're doing now. Global domination through vocals, dance moves and killer good looks. Man, what a lethal combination!

On a lighter note, our sources tell us that Ichigo and gang are to return to hometown, Japan after the tour.

Awesome tour, guys! We wish you all a safe journey back home.

* * *

Author's Note:

This is my second time posting this chapter. The spacing and lines were all messed up in the 1st time I posted hopefully that matters been resolved~

Yeah, so you're all wondering 'what the hell is Hese doing this month' 'where is Teardrops?' 'where is Requiem?' 'what the f- is this stupid fic?'

So I'll leave you guys a few lines to cool down before I get serious with my note. You may begin 0.0

Done? Ok! firstly, yes, I know. Honestly I feel like a jerk. I mean, come on a whole month? sadly, this month has been particularly difficult for both me and my computer. My stupid Advanced maths teacher, he who should not be named, had it in for us. Come on, 1 test per week no wonder my muse won't start; she's probably having exam-phobia, severe ones too!

And, don't get me started on cramp school! I hate those ugly, glasses-wearing teachers from hell. What sin have I committed in the past to deserve this!

Secondly, my computer (say hello to Tangy, my new desktop) has officially crashed may it RIP. *wipes away tear*

That's why I having a break from _Teardrops_ and _Requiem_ for a while. I just need some time to get my muse back into shape and curb her phobia.

Now for my new fic, this one I think will probably be easier for me to type and write. Always imagined what it would be like if the Bleach casts were artists and performers. So I might finish _Music To My Ears_ before I continue with the others. But that depends..

How about one-shots, that doesn't seem too bad, does it?

I tried not to break too many rules in the FF. thingy, by substituting most of the characters with Bleach casts members. And yes, I admit it rukiahana's _Fifteen Minutes of Reality_ has been a great inspiration.

Good, bad, terrible, great? Well, I leave that for you guys to decide...

~PS. Yes, that's Killua from HunterXHunter. Did you catch that? Bet you didn't? :) Maybe I should put in some cameo appearances of other anime and manga characters...

~PS.2 Yes, the season where they are performing is set to be different to show that they are in fact polar opposites of each other on the outside, eg. He plays loud music while she plays classical music. He performed in Sydney in the summer and she in winter, and yet still hold the same resemblance to each other within.

Hooray for those who figured it out! Those who didn't better luck next time!

Go on, what are you waiting for! Hit that button!


	2. Chapter 2: Sleepless in

Chapter 2: Sleepless in …

_The hardest thing with cracking a glass mask;_

_Is not about finding the loose chink,_

_It's about applying the right amount of force._

Japan

**8.30a.m., 06****th**** January 2010**

**Karakura Daily E!**

**Pianist Sighted**

XXXX**  
**

This next piece of hot news just came in live. According to security cameras, Japan's very own Pianist of Ice, Kuchiki Rukia has touched down on home soil in downtown Karakura Airport at approximately 5.00a.m. this morning.

With a rumored affair between her and hip hop artist/ dancer, Hisagi Shuhei hanging in the air and her recent album promoting tour, it is quite puzzling as to why this raven-haired pianist has made the abrupt decision to leave the soothing music atmosphere in Vienna and decided instead to return back home.

Nevertheless, our very own reporters have since then been scouring through all the known residential areas of the grand Kuchiki household for the reported whereabouts of Rukia.

Fans however will be disappointed to know that _Ru-chan_ has yet to be discovered in any of the ancestral Kuchiki manors and their luxurious vacations home. From their private, traditional-styled vacation home in Kyoto's Tamba (Central Mountain) Area, right down to their numerous lavishly designed condominiums situated right in the heart of Tokyo's very own downtown district, Karakura. Not once was she seen.

Does this mean that it's all just a hoax?

Have no fear, _Ru-chan_ fans! For here comes Karakura Daily E! reporters to the rescue.

Despite not making her much-awaited arrival on the front door of her numerous lavishly styled manors and condominiums, _Ru-chan_ was however seen gracing the upper east side of Karakura no more than 5 minutes ago with her luggage in tow, heading towards the direction of the grand 53 stories high Souen Park Condominiums, which also happened to be housing hip hop music icon, Urahara Kisuke's massive 7,000 square feet penthouse!

Funny enough, Urahara-san was last seen making a trip to New York, America, which would leave his gorgeous housing unit empty.

_Ru-chan_ going to an _empty_ condo for a reunion with relatives? Surely she would have known that _father_ dearest always visits the States during the winter seasons for some quality snuggling time with his long-time girlfriend and heiress to the Shihoin fortune, Shihoin Yoruichi.

Coincidence?

We think not.

This lavish condo not only consists of three spacious 900 square feet bedrooms, 4 exquisitely designed bathrooms, but also 1 gigantic sound-proof recording studio equipped with the latest recording instruments.

Cost? Around **$300 million**, and mind you that's just the recording studio!

Forsaking all your other mansions and condos for an empty 7,000 square feet penthouse that doesn't even belong to you? What are you thinking, _Ru-chan_? Are you hiding something from us? Are you there to play bunkmates with a delicious-looking hunk?

This is Tsuki reporting live from Karakura. For more updates on this and other juicy events, stay tuned to Karakura Daily E!

XXXX

Up next, **Hunk Alert**!

Ladies get ready to scream your hearts out because the Shinigamis will be touching down in Japan in exactly 18 hours! Daily E! has captured all the highlights of their 2009 worldwide tour, "_Bringing Light_", a personal 15-minute interview with lead singer, Kurosaki Ichigo and their heart-pounding music video of "_Dawn_", that has been nominated for Seireitei's 2009 Best Music Video Award.

All this and more, coming right after this.

* * *

**3.02a.m., 07****th**** January 2010**

**Karakura, Tokyo**

**Souen Park Condominiums**

XXXX

In the darkness all was silent. Couches, tables and ornaments alike sat despondently at their respective positions, drowned in the sea of total darkness with no presence of light.

The pitter patter of water droplets echoed throughout the dark, unlit room. Drip drops of precious liquid found themselves seeping through the leaking faucet before splattering onto the gleaming kitchen sink.

Surrounded by the early 3 o' clock winter morning darkness, Rukia simply sat on a three legged stool in the unlit kitchen. Propping up her elbows, she rested her right side cheek on the cool marble counter surface with her mass of untied glossy, ebony mane sprawled carelessly across the counter.

Beside her was a cup of brewing hot coffee, wisps of smokes still visible in that special edition pink Chappy mug of hers. Unblinking, she held out her right index finger, gently tracing the curved lines along the mug, lingering on the smiling bunny's crooked smile.

_When was the last time you smiled?_

_Genuinely? _

She grimaced as she found the previous conversation she had with her beloved godfather lingering within the dark recesses of her mind. As grateful as she was for his generosity in offering her his grand condominium for the week, she still didn't appreciate the long winded lecture that came along with it. She gripped the handle of the mug tightly.

She was a twenty one year old successful woman, not an emotionally depressed fifteen-year old. She knew what she was doing; she was earning herself a healthy living, producing beautiful music for the world. She was living her own life the way her obaa-sama had always envisioned for her. She was living in a bright future with endless opportunities.

Her okaa-sama would be smiling for joy in heaven if she could see the successful pianist her young daughter had grown up to be.

Her obaa-sama would be proud of her achievements in the music industry, proud of the numerous titles and awards she had garnered in her early years as a professional pianist.

And Kaien-dono…

She shut her eyes as unbidden memories of her deceased mentor assaulted her mind. He would be overjoyed at how she had transformed from the shy, childish girl into this beautiful, petite woman with her award-winning smile.

Those beautiful aqua green eyes filled with passion and happiness, his enthusiasm and adoration of beautiful music could be felt even by a stranger on the streets. She remembered fondly how that beamish smile of his would curve up whenever he was talking about his music and his wife. That smile, she mused, was one that could turn even the darkest cloud into a beautifully painted sun set by the sea.

But as she travelled down that well-worn memory lane, suppressed and unpleasant memories were also brought to mind. Her hold on the mug increased as she found herself thinking about the sad smile on Miyako-dono's face as she slowly surrendered herself to her three-year battle with leukemia.

And how ghastly pale was Kaien-dono's face during his final days. How desperate and lonely he became, so sad and needy for his departed wife.

How she had done nothing to save her mentor. How selfish she was by leaving him alone even when she knew he was lonely and dying from the grief within. She could have cancelled her flight to London and simply stayed with him. Maybe then things would have ended differently and not at the hands of tiny, spherical sleeping pills.

XXXX

A lone streak of pearl-like teardrop slid down her cheek, but she made no move to wipe it away. Tears and grief seemed to be her usual daily routine as months and years slowly ebbed away.

She forced the thoughts to submission, suppressing them by locking them into that well-hidden box of memories. She didn't need them. Reminiscing about the past had never gotten her anywhere; it just tugged at her already broken shards of heart, reminding her once again how pitiful she was.

_But are you happy of how things have turned out?_

She snorted. That was a stupid question. Of course, she wasn't. How could she be, when she never truly had a heart-to-heart talk with her mother who died during childbirth?

How could she be, when she didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to her obaa-sama as the old dame passed away peacefully in her sleep while her only granddaughter was busy attending the Seireitei Awards in Vienna?

How could she be when she didn't even have the chance to save her mentor from committing self-suicide?

But would that spare her from her loneliness and misery? She of all people knew that all her anger, her resentment, her hatred, her regret, all of these stupid emotions would have done nothing to change the fact that all of those that she once loved and was loved by were gone. Their ashes scattered along this barren waste of land, lost to her forever.

_I am happy._

XXXX

That was a lie, a poorly drawn lie held together only with those three words, a hollow smile and her reputation as the Pianist of Ice. It was this lie that she tried to convince herself in those sleepless nights of hers, as she simply stared at the ceiling, awaiting the arrival of day break and night fall. It was a monotonous routine of life she had gotten familiar with, part and parcel with her tears and grief.

A barely audible sigh escaped her lips, as she brought the mug closer to her colourless lips, draining the bitter contents within in just one gulp. She set the mug down beside her right hand gently, savouring the rich taste of hot coffee as the liquid slowly ran through her veins, a surge of heat and a faint tint of pink finally returned to her exhausted form.

If she couldn't change all that with being unhappy, then shouldn't she at least spare the others from suffering the emotional burden she creates with her gloom and grief? Shouldn't she set their worrying hearts at ease even if it was done by pretending to be happy with a fake smile plastered on her face? Doesn't she owe that to her loved ones, in both the living and dead realms?

Isn't that what she was supposed to do for them? To just open her mouth and form those simple three words even though they were nothing but a lie?

_Why did you come back to Karakura?_

XXXX

_I don't know._

For once, she was telling the truth as she answered Urahara's question with brutal honesty within those swirling amethyst of hers.

She truly doesn't know why. She never had anything planned before hand.

All she knew was that she couldn't handle the sleepless nights anymore; tucked alone in a comfortable feather bed and blanket in a foreign country but still unable to shut her weary eyes. Even those prescribed sleeping pills had ceased to help her in her constant struggle against insomnia.

She was tired.

Both emotionally and physically exhausted.

She didn't think she could last any longer without going insane. All that plastered smiles and faked politeness was finally taking its toll on her weak form.

Perhaps somewhere in that naïve, pathetic mind of hers was a lingering hope that there was still something worth waiting for in Karakura, maybe that's why she chose to come back, despite her hectic schedule and insomnia.

A bitter laugh escaped her mouth, the hollow sound echoed eerily within the kitchen compound. She ran a hand through her tangled, raven tresses.

That was how pathetically wrong she was. Instead of sleeping and completing her search for musical inspirations, nothing but long-buried and bittersweet memories was brought to mind since her arrival.

She regretted her decision the moment her dainty foot touched the Japanese soil. In the end, she couldn't even bear to step into her numerous estates and properties. Everywhere she set her sight, was another painful memento of her family members and close friends. It did nothing but pain and grief to her shredded heart, so close to undoing her final ties to sanity.

The others saw what they wanted to see. They expressed their envy of her luxurious inheritance; the twelve acre wide traditional Kyoto manor.

That 4,000 square feet penthouse suite in New York. They see the famous music recording studio with their state of the art instruments. They see the sky-scrapping buildings as high as the clouds serving as the main headquarters of the Kuchiki Inc., earning about $8 billion every year.

They see all that as a present, an inheritance to that rich, lucky pianist prodigy who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth.

Everything else was terribly different in those sad, amethyst eyes of the Kuchiki heiress.

The large, traditional manors where she learnt how to walk by gripping onto the arm of her wise obaa-sama, the lavish condominiums she inherited from her obaa-sama upon her untimely death, the magnificently crafted music studios where she recorded the first songs in her album with the help of Kaien-dono, the Kuchiki family owned hospitals where she was born and where she lost her beloved mother.

These were her memories, her regret and her ultimate anguish.

They were everywhere. She couldn't bring herself to sell them, but she couldn't bear the sight of them. Such was the meaning behind those luxuriously grand holdings and properties of Kuchiki Rukia.

She sighed and weakly shut her eyes in defeat as she hopped off the stool with her pink mug held tightly within her right-hand grip. She had already made up her mind. She was leaving Karakura for good before the end of this week, before the 14th of January, her birthday.

_You are running away, Rukia._

XXXX

No, she shook her head. She wasn't running away. She was simply choosing a road that could avoid her confrontation with those painful experiences of hers. She couldn't face them. It was simply too painful, and too much to bear.

Her dainty feet came in contact with the icy kitchen tiles as she slowly walked towards the sink, gently lowering the coffee-stained mug. Her right hand reached out towards the faucet, twisting it lightly and simply watched in odd detachment as the sound of precious water drumming itself consistently onto the metal basin. Her left hand wrapped itself along the soapy wet sponge while her right hand gripped the mug's handle firmly.

_Creak…_

XXXX_  
_

She froze. Her amethyst orbs shot up in alert. What in the world was that? Was she hearing things? With a twist of the knob, the water supply came to a halt. Carefully, she lowered the mug and placed the sponge back onto the gleaming sink, before wiping her wet fingers against her large T-shirt.

Curiosity got the better of her as she slowly craned her neck, peering into the dark surroundings of the living room. She scanned every inch of the room and slowly took note of every piece of furniture. Her eyes quickly noted the neatly stacked cushions upon the comfortable lounging chairs bearing various hues of vibrant colours, as well as the cold, blank screen of the 50 inch plasma TV. She even inspected the Persian rug on the floorboards.

Everything was arranged neatly and organized in an orderly manner. Nothing was out of its place.

_There's no one here._

She furrowed her eyebrows. That doesn't make sense. She distinctively heard something.

_Crash._

XXXX_  
_

The crash was far too loud and deafening to escape her sensitive ears. She jumped at the sound.

That was definitely something.

She cautioned herself to be to be as quiet as possible before nimbly making her way towards the door. Masking her presence effectively behind the gigantic refrigerator, she carefully stole a glance at the hallway.

She immediately clamped a hand onto her mouth, preventing the loud scream that was threatening to erupt any moment. She mentally berated herself. No way, the _thing_ she saw down the hallway must be her sleeplessness-induced hallucinations. Or maybe the lights were playing tricks on her.

With that thought firmly implanted, she forced her erratic heartbeat to calm down, before she took another glance at the hallway, thoroughly convinced that there was nothing to be afraid of and that what she saw previously was nothing but a figment of her imagination, worsened by her lack of sleep.

_Maybe not._

XXXX_  
_

_Kami-sama._

That was the only word she was capable of conjuring in her shocked mind, as her eyes caught sight of a tall stranger lingering in the hallway, bent over a broken pot of her godfather's bonsais. The oak wooden door was left agape and unattended.

No way. A burglar actually managed to break through her godfather's complex security measures. What was the world coming to? Was there finally someone who could rival her godfather in terms of security setting? Wait! Was that a bag slung casually upon the stranger's broad shoulders.

She gripped her knuckles so hard that crescent markings began to take shape. Her mind was sent into an immediate state of panic and confusion, as her mind struggled to accept the fact that she had an unwelcomed visitor in her godfather's condominium.

With her…

Breathing her air…

Sharing her space…

Stealing precious belongings……

XXXX

God help her soul, there was a freaking **burglar** in the condominium!

XXXX

Adrenaline pumping, she immediately grabbed hold of her cell phone hidden in her jeans pocket. Her nimble fingers quickly found themselves dialing the emergency number for the security in the condominium.

_Tu..Tu..Tu.. _

She scowled. She couldn't get through. The thundering echoes of footsteps seemed to be getting nearer with every passing second. Crouching lower into the shadow, she gripped the phone and did what she could to think of another plan.

She took another peek.

Only to see the scum fingering one of her godfather's expensive Ming vases appreciatively. She glared and quickly bit down on her lips to prevent her from screaming 'bloody murder'.

Security be damned.

Who the hell did that scum think he is? If that good for nothing thought for one second that he could get away scot-free from stealing her godfather's precious properties and belongings, then he was sorely mistaken. Petite or not, Kuchiki Rukia was not going to let him get away with it.

Rukia eyed the gleaming assortment of kitchen knives set neatly upon the kitchen counter. With the stealthiness of a ninja, she crept forward and slowly drew out an over-sized butcher knife. She frowned before sliding it back into its original compartment.

Who was she kidding? The knife was as good as a meat cleaver. She doubted she would have the strength needed to swing it let alone hit that scum. Besides, even if her shot was good and by some crazy shot of good luck she managed to land a hit on that guy, then he was as good as dead.

The large knife would have cut through him like how a regular butcher knife would slice through bacon.

She drew out a fruit knife next. Small but light. It was heaven-sent but before she could do anything else. She was quickly reminded how lethal a small, innocent fruit knife could be as she accidently cut her thumb and precious crimson droplets dripped onto the gleaming marble counter. She winced at the slight pain.

A few good stabs from this little thing could probably kill that man. As wonderful as it may sound, she doesn't really want to kill him.

Just enough to make him cowered for fear and tremble beneath her feet.

She shook her head.

Definitely not knives.

Publicity. Negative publicity weighted terribly heavy in her line of work. One wrong move, one slip of the tongue. Next thing, you know you could be fined, boycotted, grace the front page of tabloid magazines or worse thrown in jail for manslaughter.

_Pianist Prodigy Stabs Burglar to Death._

She grimaced. That was one headline she didn't want to see in the morning papers.

She chucked away the idea of her defending herself with knives or any other sharp objects for that matter. Bad publicity was something she was sure she could go through unscathed and innocently unaffected.

Sliding one of the numerous drawers open, she quickly ransacked it for an effective weapon not enough to kill the man but certainly enough to cause him pain and to make him think twice about stealing from her and her loved ones.

She grinned as her right hand closed around the handle of a large wooden ladle, almost as long as her arm. Brandishing the weapon in hand, she tested the strength and the amount of pain inflicted by hitting the blunt side of the spoon it against her outstretched palm.

_This will do just fine._

_

* * *

_

**2.37a.m., 07****th**** January 2010**

**Karakura, Japan**

**Karakura Airport**

XXXX

To say that the famous ginger-haired lead singer of Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo was having a rough day was the _understatement_ of the year.

Apparently in the Shinigamis' haste to return home, they had forgotten that their new status as hot, charming new artists on the scene, that were very much in demand. The moment they arrived, they were greeted with the sight of faithful fans clutching a pen and paper hoping to get their famed autographs and a sea of reporters with their cameras, microphones and voice-recorders in hand, ready for action.

The moment their plane touched down on the Karakura Airport, or rather they showed their unique good looks to the public present there in the airport. All hell broke loose. Literally.

Like how a pack of starving vultures descended on their prey, he and the gang were quickly targeted and hunted down. Mercilessly.

He was constantly faced with screeching, rabid fans asking for his autographs. And the press wasn't being much of a help by having half-a-dozen or more microphones roughly shoved towards his face while scintillating shots of camera flashes blinked furiously, snapping shot after shot, all the while pestering him and the gang with stupid questions.

For the love of _Kami-sama_, they just got down from a 7 hours long plane flight! Anyone with half a brain should know how they were feeling! Answering those questions were down-right insulting and tiring. A scowl was quick to form on his lips as he rudely glared at any reporter who was stupid enough to shove another microphone towards his face.

He would give anything for the crowd to disappear from his sight. Right then.

XXXX

_It was just his luck that Kami-sama chose to grant his wish in the worst way anyone could think of…_

XXXX_  
_

"Kurosaki-sama," came a loud, bellowing voice from the end of the mob of seemingly endless crowd, silencing all the other chaotic screeches from the reporters' equipment and his fans constant screams. Like the red sea itself, the crowd parted into two sides with the speaker on the far end opposite him.

He frowned, before whirling in surprise. What greeted him was the sight of a frail-looking teenaged school girl still wearing her school uniform, with her backpack slung casually on her back. A pair of large spectacles found themselves on the bridge of her nose, while her tear-streaked face spoke of great sadness. A loud speaker was gripped firmly in her hands, placed near her mouth.

He groaned. It better not be another declaration of love from his rabid hoard of fan girls.

"Kurosaki-sama. Why? Why must you reject my love for you? I adore you. I worship the very ground you walk on. I paid $450 for a piece of your hair on Ebay. I'll do anything for you."

He winced, slightly taken aback by her words.

Hair?

Ebay?

$450?

Fun's over. That was downright crazy and bordering on insanity. This wasn't just another harmless declaration of love. A surge of unknown fear wrecked through him. This girl was crazy, a Class A stalker.

Worse, he had a nagging suspicion that she wasn't going to end things _peacefully_.

"Since you can't learn to love me, then I'll make sure that no one can ever touch you."

With that, she took out a small metallic object from her school bag, holding it within her palm.

He froze.

_Kami-sama. Don't tell me she's going to …_

XXXX_  
_

"This control here activates the bomb I've set up around the airport. It's enough to take down the entire airport. We'll all die together here. Just you and me. Doesn't that sound _romantic_, Kurosaki-sama?"

The crowd was sent into a state of utter chaos and pandemonium at the mention of the word '_bomb_'. Crowds of reporter and fan dispersed themselves, running amok towards the flashing sign of the exit, fleeing for their precious lives and screaming on top of their lungs.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw not one but nine heavily built security personnel tackle the deranged school girl. Two of them had her lying on the ground, with another three barking out orders on their walkie-talkies meanwhile another two were busy rummaging through her schoolbag; one cuffing her hands behind her back while ignoring her sharp nails and snarls and his colleague holding the remote control but careful not to press the ugly red button in the middle.

XXXX

"LET GO of me, you brutes! You think I don't know! You all just want Kurosaki-sama to yourselves! **LET GO OF ME**!"

In the midst of all the confusion, he lost sight of the others. He cursed. Ishida, his dear organized, sewing-loving of a pianist freak will definitely not be pleased by the sudden turn of events. Reaching into his jacket pockets, he was quick to fish out a blue-coloured snow cap and without another thought slipped it on, effectively hiding his mop of bright hair away from sight.

Pleased with his new disguise and confident that no one would be able to recognized him, he strutted out of the airport smirking. Blending himself with the crowd seamlessly, he quickly hailed a passing cab and climbed aboard, chuckling as the marble white building slowly disappeared from sight.

He sighed, easing himself onto the cushioned seats as familiar looking buildings appeared in his line of vision. A hint of smile played on his chapped lips.

It was nice to come home.

* * *

_Maybe not._

He glared at the stupid note taped onto the front door of his house. He huffed as puffs of white fume emerged from his mouth. His lips pressed into a grim line. Cracking his knuckles loudly, he growled before rereading the note for the second time.

XXXX

_Dear insolent son of mine,_

_ By the time you read this note, the rest of the Kurosaki family would hopefully already be in sunny Fiji. Karin and Yuzu send you their love but I'm quite sure none of us wants to have our secrets divulged to the public. (No thanks to you). _

_ So I won't be adding too much detail for our trip either. Take care and remember grandchildren are not easy to bear at an old age. It's better to have em' early. _

_ If you know what I mean…… *winks*_

_PS. Hayate is at Dr. Fumiko's. The girls would have loved to take him along but apparently it costs more with pets aboard._

_PS. 2 HURRY UP AND GIVE ME GRANDCHILDREN ALREADY!_

_The awesomest father in the world,_

_Papa._

XXXX

He growled, with a simple tug, he tore of the note, crumpling it into a ball and angrily threw it onto the floor, all the while thinking of several new, effective ways of murdering his idiotic father when he finally gets his hand on him.

Roasting him over a hot fire…

Throwing him into a tub filled with concentrated acid…

Those were but a few of his methods. Oh, the joy when he finally does that.

In real life.

Frustrated, he bent over hoping to at least find a spare key to his house under the floor mat. Instead of a metal key however, he quickly found himself staring at an unopened envelope lying unattended the hard pavement; addressed to him.

Surprised, he quickly picked the letter up, feeling the small weight of the paper pressing itself upon his stretched palm. He flipped the letter over, trying to find the writer of the letter.

Wait. There at the lower left hand side of the envelope was a small printed image of a green and white bucket hat. He raised his eyebrows in question. It had the 'Urahara Records' logo!

Just what did Urahara Kisuke want with him?

Curious, he quickly tore open the letter. The contents within seemed unusually mysterious and suspicious. There was a silvery key, a small disc as big as his left hand knuckle and a letter.

Without a second thought, he reached for the folded paper within, reading the message thoroughly.

XXXX

_Kurosaki-san,_

_ You may or may not know that your father and I were relatively close friends during our college years. Well, maybe sake buddies to be more exact. Anymore, I just wanted you to know that whilst your family is away on vacation. You are more than welcomed to stay at my penthouse at Souen Park Condominiums, for the rest of your short stay in Karakura with your dog. (I presume that Hayate is in fact a dog)_

_There is nothing to worry about and all your expenses are covered. No rental fee or whatsoever. There's a key inside this envelope and along with it is a small disc. You will know what to do with it when you enter the condo. _

_Urahara_

_XXXX  
_

The letter left him stunned. Out of all the possibilities, a place to stay? And friends with his crazy father? He shook his head. Has the world finally gone mad?

The letter itself was unbelievable. He had much better luck believing in tooth fairies and flying boars than the mental image of his father being sake buddies with Urahara Kisuke.

_But……_

Urahara did offer and he didn't have anywhere else to stay.

His stupid father left him with a locked house and no further instructions than to take care of the family dog and find himself a girl friend. Uryu would take a look at his disheveled way of life, readjust his pair of glasses and kick him out the minute his left foot went inside; he would probably leave out of his own accord if Renji ever invites him into his messy apartment.

And Chad? Chad was back in Mexico.

He groaned. There didn't seem to be much of a choice for him. Sighing, he adjusted the backpack behind him before making his way back into the yellow cab, taking care to slide the letter and its contents into his jeans pocket.

Souen Park Condominium, it is then.

But first, he needed to get his dog from the neighbourhood vet.

He barked out his destination to the old cab driver in front before sliding back into his cushioned seat and putting on the seat belt.

He gazed out of the fogged window and instinctively took out the key, slightly grimacing at the cold, biting feel of cool metal beneath his fingers; playing idly with the poor thing, as the yellow cab slowly wheezed past the homey scene of Kurosaki Clinic.

* * *

_40 minutes later_

XXXX

Standing right at the front door entrance of the house, he knew it was a bad decision the moment he slid the metal key into its keyhole. The white coated, black patched Shiba Inu beside him whimpered, as if he too had a sense of unease when faced with the darkness that lied behind the sturdy oak door. An ominous silence hung itself in the air.

He held his breath and with a slight push, the door swung open, revealing a room of complete darkness. With the dim lights, he could see several pots of plants surrounding the hallway. He motioned for the dog.

_Come here._

He mouthed. Beside him, the lovable dog whimpered before retreating. After two or more steps, he plopped himself down and amount of cajoling and treats would make him budge.

He glared at his dog's feigned innocence.

He walked into the dark room, entering its hallway. Several delicate-bonsais were placed on the ornamental tables for decoration. He leaned in to have a closer look at the dwarfish plants.

_Crash._

XXXX_  
_

He winced. With an unintentional shove, he seemed to have knocked over one of the bonsais, shattering the poor thing as it connected with the marble tiles. A loud crash reverberated throughout the room.

He shrugged before placing his foot over the wreckage. He'll just have to clean that up later. No use apologizing now to Urahara when the owner himself wasn't in.

Making his way deeper into the house, he quickly caught sight of a beautiful Ming vase standing right on one of the numerous coffee tables. Several rays of light had escaped their hold through the open door and bounced off the expensive porcelain's gleaming surface. He couldn't resist tapping one of his fingers against the exquisite ornament.

His forefinger was quickly withdrawn when he heard a quick shuffle of footsteps, coming from the inner parts of the house. He furrowed his eyebrows. Just what was that?

Deciding that it was worthwhile to take a look at the source of sound, he ventured deeper into the unexplored areas of the house.

_He had no idea of the torture laying in wait. _

_

* * *

_

Rukia hid herself behind the large refrigerator, clutching the ladle like a lifeline. Any moment now the burglar would barge into the kitchen and get the worst beating of his lifetime, wailing right back home to his mother. She held her breath, mentally counting as the footsteps became clearer to her ears.

_3…_

She could hear his footsteps making way into the entrance of the kitchen.

_2…_

She could see the rough outline of his built form as he slowly entered her line of sight.

_1…_

She leaped out her hiding place with her ladle at hand, howling the loudest Amazonian battle cry she could muster as she landed a strike right on his left side.

The burglar will regret his decision to underestimate Kuchiki Rukia.

* * *

Ichigo quickly held out his hands protectively the moment he heard a loud cry that could make even the bravest warrior tremble in fear on the battlegrounds. The next thing he heard was a loud 'whack' as something blunt came in contact with his left side. He grimaced. It was definitely going to leave a bruise.

_What the hell is going on?_

XXXX

He didn't have to ponder over the question as another hit made itself known on his upper right arm, leaving a dull pain. Hearing a movement on his right side, he extended his elbow outwards in an attempt to retaliate against the attack, rendering his chest area exposed.

His assaulter took the opening, propelling herself against his chest. Unsurprisingly, they collided against each other.

With a loud 'oof', he fell onto the ground, landing painfully on his back, while his attacker was sprawled on top of him. He groaned, using his left hand to clutch at the sore spot on his head, only to feel soft, orange tresses beneath his fingers. The snow cap he had on must have fallen off during his descent.

For a moment there, his vision blurred and even the ceiling on top of him seemed to be spinning. He cursed, trying to pick himself up from the chilly floor tiles only to have a heavy weight pressing back uncomfortably against him, latched tightly on his chest.

On top of him, he heard another gasp. Weakly, he lifted one of his eyelids open, trying to get a better look at his attacker. He huffed in anger as the only thing he saw was a mop of raven hair, unruly and sprawled messily along his attacker's shoulders.

Great, so he was attacked by a woman. If that news ever gets out, it's goodbye Kurosaki Ichigo the bad boy and hello Kurosaki Ichigo the wimp. The media would have a field day.

He craned his neck, trying to get a view on her hidden face, but to no avail. The woman was too short, barely reaching his collar bone in her current position and the ebony strands seemed to have completely engulfed her elfin form. He tried to stand up only to have his long legs give out on him. He couldn't have managed it anyway with the woman lying on top of him and his world in stars.

Suddenly, there was a sudden tug on the front of his shirt. Surprised, his eyes trailed downwards following the direction of the simple pull. His searching gaze however was instantly interlocked itself with the most colourful pair of eyes he had ever seen.

Time stopped at the exact moment their eyes met each other.

The scorching pair of ocher orbs drowned themselves in a pair of swirling amethyst glinting with confusion, shock, bewilderment before finally settling back into realization.

The same cycle of emotion were mirrored in his own eyes, as he too realized the identity of his mysterious attacker.

His mouth went dry. Immediately, all forms of retorts that had been forming at the tip of his tongue disappeared into thin air, never making their way out of his lips.

Both made no indication of getting out of their respective positions. Instead, they simply stared at each other, frozen in time. It was only after a few good minutes that time finally took pity on them and resumed its normal course of ticking and chiming.

Ichigo gulped nervously and for the first time in a very long time wiped his pair of clammy hands against his jeans, although knowing full well that his actions were futile.

He groaned. Kami-sama doesn't play it easy on him now, does he?

Of all of the petite women in Karakura, or better yet the whole deranged world. What were his chances of landing on his back with the famous pianist prodigy of Japan, Kuchiki Rukia, the Pianist of Ice sprawled above him?

He mentally smacked himself. What a dumb question to ask.

Awkward silence filled the gaps and living spaces between the two. Feeling obligated to at least ease the tension at hand, he decided to he would be the first to initiate a conversation.

He gulped once again. Taking in a deep breath, he said the first albeit stupid thing that came into his mind as their gazes remained interlocked with each other.

"You're an awfully heavy midget, aren't you? Rukia?"

XXXX

_Big mistake._

_

* * *

_

**3.30a.m., 07****th**** January 2010**

**Karakura Daily E!**

**Fan BOMB?**

XXXX

Citizens of Karakura and Japan, it seemed as if the obsession of rabid fan girls with hot, talented music hunks just reached another crazy, scary standard. Yup, I'm sure you've all heard about it.

It's the '**love-declaration-gone-wrong-tragedy**' that happened in Karakura Airport this morning.

Earlier this morning, the **Shinigamis** members had arrived at the Karakura Airport, among them the lead singer, **Kurosaki Ichigo**, the band's pianist **Ishida Uryu** and redhead drummer **Abarai Renji** with their lead guitarist still enjoying his time in Mexico. They were quickly escorted by airport security upon arrival.

But even security couldn't prevent the threat and commotion arising when one of the fan girls in the crowd suddenly came forward, threatening to blow of the entire airport because of an unrequited love with _Kurosaki-sama_.

Don't believe me? Take a look at this.

_*insert video clip*_

Yikes, girl. We've all had our fair share of heartaches and unrequited love. No need to go all 'September 11' on us!

The terrorist/ fan girl has been arrested by security and the bomb experts were quickly called in to dismantle the bombs. According to police reports, the bombs were verified as authentic and actually had enough firepower to blow off an entire city.

Imagine what would have happened if the bombs did go off.

Now, that's a very scary thought. How an innocent teen aged school girl gets her hand on such lethal weapons nowadays is truly frightening.

Kurosaki Ichigo had been reportedly missing since the incident and the band mates Ishida Uryu and Abarai Renji had refused to give any comments on this.

Nonetheless, there have however been several sightings of the orange-haired hunk in Karakura.

According to a taxi-driver named **Kai**, as he would prefer to be known, he had apparently chauffeured Kurosaki to a number of places, from his family house at the Karakura Clinics, to a neighbourhood vet called "Fumiko's Corner" and last but not least to **Souen Park Condominiums**!

And there's more. Daily E! has managed to get our hands on the exclusive security cameras in Souen Park Condominiums, Urahara Kisuke's grand 7,000 square feet penthouse to be more specific and don't blink guys because the next video clip shown will blow you out of your mind!

We see the beautiful _Ru-chan_ entering the penthouse earlier on 06th January 2010 at 5 a.m. as recorded, since then she has not made any moves on leaving the house. Now we forward the tapes to 07th January 2010 at 3.49 a.m.

_And…_

Voila! We see delicious-looking rock star **Kurosaki Ichigo** entering the house with his pet dog in tow, looking as handsome as ever while hiding under that ridiculous snow cap.

**LOVEBIRDS ALERT!**

Are **Kurosaki Ichigo** and **Kuchiki Rukia** officially living under one roof? Take out the confetti people! And get ready to party!

Why you ask?

Well, why not?

Its Japan's rising new rock star and pianist extraordinaire! A match like that? You know us Japanese would be grinning from ear to ear, or better yet jumping up and down the sofa couches just thinking about it!

Stay tuned for more, as Daily E! brings you more updates on the **Ichiruki **phenomenon happening right here in Karakura! Join the club people! And spread the love~

Don't these two just look so cute together?

* * *

Author's Note:

Yeah, it's Hese here. I was laughing so hard when I was doing the 'Rukia-hitting–Ichigo-with-ladle' scene! So funny and dramatic! HAHA! Anyway, this is one of the longest chapter I have published yet! 19 pages! I reached a new record.

Did you guys notice Hayate there? Yup, there's FMA's trusty and cute Shiba Inu, **Black Hayate** in this fic? *gush* He's so cute. ^.^

His appearance here is because of his name. (Shallow, I know)

Black is also present in the word 'Kurosaki' and 'Shiba' in Shiba Inu (that's the dog breed just so you know. Go look it up in wiki to know more.) I used to think he was a husky.

Funny eh? _Maybe it's just me._

LOL!

Coincidental puns...

Kai is actually Kon. In the first few episodes after his appearance, he did comment that he would have liked to be called 'Kai' but Ichigo refused, saying that 'Kai' sounded way to cool for him!

Also, don't you just love the scene where Ichigo says "You're an awfully heavy midget, aren't you? Rukia?" HAHA, clueless Ichigo just managed to insult her twice in a sentence unknowingly. Ha! He's in for a beating. I can tell.

Well that's it for this month! Think of this chapter as my parting gift in May before I leave to face my worst fears- exams. Lots of exam. In particular, my final terms. Yikes.

I'm already having a breakdown just thinking about it! Better study now! BYE~

PS. If there are any Japanese reading and reviewing this fic. I hope that you guys don't mind me using some of the locations, words and names in the above.


	3. Chapter 3: Love Thy Roommate

Chapter 3: Love Thy Roommate

_If you believe in true love in this world,_

_Then congrats;_

_Because you're the 30 percent in this deranged world that still believe in it; _

_Namely: the young, the naïve and the old;_

_If you believe in love at first sight,_

_Then congrats;_

_Because I'll give you five magic words,_

_GO GET YOURSELF A DOCTOR._

XXXX

A baggy T-shirt that was at least one size too large for her and a pair of flannel shorts that barely went up to her thighs was by far some of the favourite assemble of jumbled–up clothing Rukia owned in her grand multi-billion dollar wardrobe that housed more than several hundreds of designer dresses.

These were her favourite get-up when she didn't have to show her face to the public. She adored them to death. They were her dirty little secret; something she tucked well behind the stolid façade of the glamorous celebrity she dons on every day.

Letting others see her dressed in those clothes was downright embarrassing and a definite no-no for her.

So why in the name of all things saint and holy does Kami-sama suddenly throw her whole perfect life off balance by showing that notorious orange-haired singer to her doorstep?

Her line of sight trailed downwards. Their faces were only inches apart. Every time he breathed, warm air would tickle her face, making her all too aware of their close proximity.

_Too close for comfort. _

She glanced past his shock of untamed ginger locks, silently wondering if they would feel as soft as they looked. She took immediate notice of his handsome face as her eyes wandered further down south.

The angular cheek bones of his.

Those soulful ocher honey orbs that seemed to be glowing in the dark.

Had she been a weaker woman she would have swooned. The ads and billboard signs didn't seem to do his handsome looks justice, especially when you have the man pinned underneath you.

Her sensitive nose just wouldn't stop sniffing that scent that was sweeping over her like a miniature tidal wave. She loved that smell, a combination of honey, a tinge of cinnamon and something else she couldn't put her finger on.

She inwardly cringed at where her thoughts were taking her before blushing a shade darker as her hands seemed to have _accidentally_ brushed against his rippling six-packs. Even with a thick sweater in between, she could tell that Kurosaki Ichigo had a chiseled chest rippling with well-defined muscles.

Going lower, she saw that her hands seemed to have lost the ability to act upon her command and chose instead to remain firmly latched upon Ichigo's shirt. Her knees however were planted on each side of his lower limbs. The very image sent her heartbeat increasing in an alarmingly terse manner.

And her lungs.

Kami-sama. Did her lungs suddenly stopped functioning somewhere during her descent? Was she still holding her breath? Since when?

Answers were suddenly nothing but a blur. You could ask her the colour of the sky and Rukia would tell you that it's an endless glade of green. Her mind was a mess.

Did she suffer a concussion?

Maybe it was her lack of sleep?

Either way, breathing seemed to be the last thing on her mind.

She prayed that Ichigo couldn't see her sanguine-coloured cheeks in the dark. It would only make the situation at hand worse.

She gazed into his molten ocher orbs. There was something about his beautiful smothering eyes that made him seem almost impartial to the cold façade she shouldered in public eyes, as if he was not looking _at _her, but instead, looking _through _her.

Damn, he needed to stop staring at her and she needed to look away. Every second he continued to stare was prolonging her torture. She felt as if all her carefully-kept secrets and suppressed memories have suddenly been called forth and laid bare on the table, open for scrutiny. For that brief moment she laid frozen in time, it was as if she had been stripped bare of all her defenses. She felt so vulnerable.

This man frightened her terribly. She curled her fists at the front of his shirt and gulped. Every living fibre in her body was yelling, no screeching for attention, telling her to be alert and to run far far away from the man.

_I command you to look away! _**NOW**_!_

Her order fell on deaf ears for her body simply refused to obey. Her eyes remained glued on his well-defined facial features; they didn't even more a single millimeter.

She watched on in morbid fascination as his Adam's apple bobbed, his tongue darting out to lick his dry lips before swallowing nervously. Every time she thought he was finally going to open his mouth, stop licking his damn lips and break the silence, he managed to surprise her by simply repeating the whole annoying routine, almost as if all form of words or retorts had died before making their way out of his mouth.

She however, wasn't being much of a help either with her muted silence and apparent stupor at the situation at hand. Should she do something?

Maybe she should start the introductions?

_Have you lost your mind? Why the hell would you want introductions when you see his face on billboard signs and ads practically every day? _

Oh yeah, that's right. He's a famous rock star. And judging by the stunned look on his face, she'll take a wild guess and say that he already knows who she is. The suffocating silence dragged on. Inwardly, she prayed to every deity she knew to end the cliché scene that was quickly unraveling before her eyes.

Then, a thought hit her right in the face. What was she beating herself up for, if it clearly _wasn't_ her fault?

She wasn't the burg- I mean, the intruder. Of course, she told herself. It was all Kurosaki Ichigo's fault. That's right. So she definitely wasn't going to be the first one to start an awkward conversation with him. He should clean up his own mess. Of course, she wasn't going to he-

_"You're an awfully heavy midget, aren't you? Rukia?"_

XXXX

Oh good, so he finally opened his mouth and said something. She heaved a sigh of relief; thank god she didn't ha-

Wait; did he just say what she thinks he just said? She blinked. Her train of random thoughts was pushed off track, crashing into the nearest train station.

She took her time processing through every single syllable, before reconfirming what she heard. Instantaneously, her eyes began to widen in disbelief before she seethed with vengeance.

Did that orange carrot just called her _fat_ and _short_?

XXXX

Why that oaf of a rotten tangerine! That moronic giant! That stupid blasted carrot! That ape with the sensitivity of a log! That… that pea-brained idiot with buttons for brain! Wait, no that didn't make much sense. Oh, but what the heck, bottom line was: How dare he insult her!

And just like that the spell that held her in place was broken, snapped in half as if it was nothing but a tenuous twig. The impasse was shattered.

A wise man would tell you that there were three things a man must never comment about a woman; her height, her weight and above all her age. And when you're Kurosaki Ichigo with the famous pianist prodigy on top of you and glaring at you, you just _know _things will never turn out peachy and end in your favour.

No, Rukia told herself firmly. This man doesn't unnerve her. He made her feel positively _homicidal_! Just who the hell did he think he is! Coming into her godfather's condo unannounced and unexpected. He made her think that he was a petty burglar who came to steal Urahara's belongings.

She complicated matters by hitting him with a ladle. She mentally smacked herself in the head. Kami-sama, she resisted the urge to strangle him.

To think that she had just spent the last few minutes on top of him wearing a baggy T-shirt and shorts without saying anything! She must have looked like a stupid gaping goldfish just now. He made her look so goddamned stupid.

Is that what Kurosaki Ichigo does on a daily basis? Barge into Urahara Kisuke's condo and embarrass the hell out of Kuchiki Rukia?

The nerve of that insensitive git!

Unadulterated rage and ire overtook her petite being. Searing hot coals of anger coursed through her veins. She released her hold on his shirt as if her precious, delicate fingers were burnt. The previous transfixion in her eyes morphed themselves into a flame of fury that could be likened to supernova.

She glared vehemently at the singer below her; her rose-petal lips twisted themselves into a sadistic smirk. Kurosaki Ichigo will pay _dearly_ for the emotional turmoil and embarrassment he caused.

Underneath her, Ichigo quivered, gulping nervously as the limited light in the room directed themselves into her colourful orbs. A rush of colours and emotions passed through her orbs before settling into a shade of murderous indigo.

He cursed inwardly; he should have kept his mouth shut in the beginning. The magazines and newspapers seemed to have conveniently missed out how scary Kuchiki Rukia looked like when angered; something he was about to find out very soon.

XXXX

She glared daggers at him; the missing ladle had magically reappeared in her iron-clad grip. He gulped, praying to every deity he knew of because if looks could kill, Ichigo had no doubt he would be burnt alive with just the intensity of her gaze.

_Whack!_

He held out his forearms to defend himself, hissing slightly at the pain as the ladle hit his right biceps. The frown on his lips deepened.

Kami-sama was she fucking insane in the head? What _normal_ people would hit their guests with a ladle upon their entry? And he was pretty sure she knew who he was, so why does she keep hitting him? Hasn't it occurred to her that she's currently hitting a world-famous, not to mention hot-looking singer?

"Cut it out midget! In case you haven't notice; I'm a _guest_ and I'm unarmed! So stop hitting me with that goddamned ladle!"

She fumed at the word 'guest'. She had half a mind to go into the study room and hurl the biggest Cambridge dictionary she could get her hands on towards him. Last she checked, 'guest' means 'a visitor to whom hospitality is extended'.

She certainly didn't invite him along and _normal_ guests would never visit at 3 a.m. in the bloody morning. Ergo, Kurosaki Ichigo is not a gues-

A light bulb immediately went up in her befuddled mind. Of course, why didn't she think about that in the first place? She should have known it since the beginning; it was so damn obvious.

Kurosaki Ichigo wasn't a burglar; he's a crazed _stalker_ of her godfather's. Why else will he be here?

The horrific scenes of what would have happened had her godfather been at home flashed through her mind. That orange-haired psycho could make him write mushy love letters; threaten to cut off his um… certain anatomies; torture him in the most humiliating way before killing him. And finally, the maniac would dunk him into a tub of concentrated acid to get rid of the evidence.

She shivered in fear as the image of a mad, maniacally grinning Ichigo drenched in her godfather's blood came unbidden to mind.

XXXX

"Shut up! You…you...Stalker! You think you could get away with this! You're going straight to jail after I'm done with you!"

He bit his tongue hard to keep the rein on his short-fused temper. Why is she being so damn stubborn? Can't she see it was an honest mistake? Slowly, he held out his hands as a show of surrender and peace.

"Look; there must have been some sort of misunderstanding. I'm here because Ura-"

He was rudely interrupted before he could finish the sentence.

"There is** no** mistake! I have nothing more to say to you!" she hollered.

Another hard jab landed right on his exposed chest area, while it would have left a weaker soul spluttering for air; it merely agitated Ichigo. So much for playing Mr. Nice Guy, the minute he started acting polite, the evil midget from hell started hitting him with a ladle.

Is this even the real fabled, Pianist of Ice, Kuchiki Rukia?

He made a mental note to himself to never believe anything the press and media told him from his point forth. If a half-pint like her can be the calm and composed Pianist of Ice; then before he knows it, he could be painted the King of Wimps, which is definitely **not** true!

Besides, him? A stalker?

Had she looked herself in a mirror this morning?

Not only is she ridiculously short, but she also happens to have a penchant of hitting random guests. Just look at the bruises on his poor body! Did she honestly think that he's stalking after a rude, half-pint midget like her?

He snorted, "Dream on, you diminutive midget! As if anyone would want to stalk a dwarf like you."

Rukia spluttered, the red blush crept its way on to her cheeks.

"I n-never said th…that you were stalking after me, you idiot! BAKA! Aren't you here for my godfather?"

He scowled, the ugly frown marring his handsome features ever-so-slightly. "Are you saying that I'm stalking after Urahara?"

She gave a firm nod and he went ballistic, scrunching up his eyebrows and huffing in anger.

"What the hell do you take me for? Do I look like a fucking pansy to you?"

She folded her arms defensively.

"Shut up! It's not like every homo guy in the world had the neon sign 'I'm a Gay' flashing on their foreheads! How was I to know? Besides, there are too many closet gays these days," she snapped indignantly.

"Are you saying that _I'm_ a closet gay?"He questioned as he threw a scathing glare at her direction.

She stood her ground, returning the gesture before replying icily, "well maybe I am. What are you going to do about it, Strawberry?"

"Nothing," came his smug reply completed with his trademark bad-boy smirk. She clenched her fist, how she longed to wipe that annoying smirk off his face.

"At least, I'm a handsome looking nancy boy. And not some short and over-weight dwarf. Better a freaking sissy than a half-pint _midget_!"he said nonchalantly.

She narrowed her eyes into dangerous slits, gripping the wooden ladle so hard that her knuckles turned white. Forget wiping off his smirk, she'll wipe the floor with his face. And hopefully by the time she finished, the world will have one less moron to feed.

No one who had called her 'midget' ever survived to tell the tale. And she meant no one! That arrogant jerk had just sealed his own fate. From now onwards, she will show him _no_ mercy.

XXXX

Reflexively, she brought out her ladle. Just when the ladle was about to hit her target however, the unthinkable happened.

Ichigo's left hand had shot up from his side and managed to grab hold of her delicate wrist. She tried squirming against his tight grip but to no avail. That man had the grip of an arm-wrestling champion. Instead of letting go off her wrist, he simply tightened his grip every time she struggled against his hold.

Drops of salty liquid were threatening to slither down her cheek as his hold soon became so constricting that she was worried of him breaking her wrist.

She had no choice but to stop struggling and give in. With a barely audible whimper, she finally ceased her struggle and let him have his way.

_Damn him!_

XXXX

In a blink of an eye, her precious ladle was wretched from her grasp and threw away into a random corner.

Her amethyst orbs widened as she soon found herself lying on the cold tiled floors; both of her hands were caught in a death grip above her head and to add insult to injury a certain annoying carrot-top was there smirking smugly on top of her.

She glowered angrily. That sneaky bastard had taken advantage of her and reversed their positions. She shot another death glare at him, only to be greeted by his amused grin.

Ichigo watched on as the pianist squirmed to release herself. Well, she can try, but he can guarantee that it'll never work. His callous hands enveloped her tiny ones and held them tightly; crushing her hopes of ever struggling free from them. His long, lean legs were perfectly comfortable resting beside each of her thighs; entrapping her limbs.

Come to think of it, she does seem to have a pair of nice legs. The shorts she was wearing barely reached her thighs, leaving nothing but a pair of gorgeously lean legs to his view; even in the shroud of the darkness, they retained their creamy-looking glow. They looked so soft, almost like a newborn baby's. He was extremely tempted to run a hand through her alabaster skin.

Would it feel as smooth as it looked?

A rough kick from Rukia dispelled the mood. He growled. Forget the legs, this woman was crazy. The kick just now was too damn close. Any nearer and it would have hit the family jewels and that's 'bye bye' to his perverted father's grand dream of teeny tiny Kurosaki juniors.

He set his mouth into a grim line. He couldn't take any chances with this violent midget. Leaning down on his sides, he shifted his weight around. This time, he was staring directly at her enraged face; constricting the tight hold he had over her legs. She glared at him. The look on her was positively murderous and would have scared any spineless runt shitless.

She was not happy.

Another smug grin appeared. Well, too bad for her; because he was definitely not taking any crap from her. In fact, you could say he was having the upper hand right now. Entrapped beneath his lanky but built form, Rukia couldn't even move any of her limbs, let alone kick him.

A satisfied grin came about. That should show the midget how to behave. Now, where as he? Oh right, explaining to that midget.

Scarcely had he open his mouth however, a loud bark was heard echoing in the hallway.

_Hell no._

XXXX

Sixty kilograms of canine muscles and flesh immediately tackled him on to the solid tiles, rendering his captive free. He looked up to see his Shiba Inu wagging his tail enthusiastically. His pink tongue lathering Ichigo's scowling face in a thick layer of dog slobber.

"Hayate," Ichigo grounded out through clenched teeth. That dog has the worst timing in the history of bad timings. "Get off of me, you slobbering monster."

He tried pushing the dog away, but Hayate seemed to be dead-set on staying on top of him. He gave up after the 5th push. Then, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the midget running past him.

Acting purely on impulse and foregoing certain Physics notions like gravity and momentum, his right hand shot out and grabbed hold of her ankle. Without another thought, he yanked her ankle down.

_Oops._

XXXX

"WAAAAHHHH," she yelled, her arms flailing about trying desperately to catch hold something and stop her descent. Unfortunately, she couldn't and as expected, lost her balance. She landed herself with a loud 'thud', falling head first on to the cold tiles, right beside her mortal enemy.

She groaned, clutching her sore head. Stupid strawberry. The trip could have killed her. She wanted to strangle that idiot with her bare hands, castrate him, stab him and then kill him. After that, she would resurrect him and repeat the whole course of action.

Just not right now, when she couldn't even make out the basic pattern of the floor tiles.

A dull throbbing in her head made her feel woozy. After what that seemed to like an eternity, she finally regained the use of her limbs, flipping herself over so she's lying on her back instead.

She glanced upwards. Why was the ceiling spinning?

And why were there four Ichigos in front of her? As if one wasn't enough of a pain in the ass.

She couldn't hear anything even as she strained her ears. That carrot-top seemed shocked and looked as if he was saying something. Too bad she couldn't make out the words his lips were trying to form.

Pain wrecked through her skull as she gave out another groan. Her world continued on spinning, she swore it was worse than the time she went on that gravity-defying roller coaster ride with Rangiku. Shutting her weary eyes, her world suddenly stood still and changed into a realm of pitch black. The last thing she remembered was the gross smell of wet grass and puddles.

She wrinkled her nose. It smelt like dog slobber.

* * *

"Rukia," he called out in concern. Giving Hayate a hard shove, the dog seemed to understand the gravity of the situation and relented but only after giving Ichigo another through lick on the face. He wiped away the dog drool with obvious distaste.

"Oi, midget! Wake up! It's not funny!"

Propping himself up by the elbows, he quickly crawled his way towards her when he noticed that she wasn't responding to his call. He pulled her up until her face was facing his. Gently, he shook her by her shoulders, only to have her dainty head of raven tresses fall limply back against him.

He searched for a beating pulse and heaved a sigh of pure relief. The annoying midget wasn't dead, just unconscious; probably suffered a minor concussion. He grimaced as he thought of her reactions when she's awakened. Nope, she'll definitely not be happy.

But hell, it was an accident; meaning, it wasn't done on purpose. How was he to know that she'll end up with a lump on her head?

He wrapped his arms around her lithe form, carrying her unconscious form in his arms as he stood up. Cradling her protectively, he took a quick glance around the dark condo.

What should he do now?

Option number 1 would be to call the ambulance, but that's a career-suicidal move. The minute the press got their blood hound scent on them, they're both dead. Add in another filed complaint of him manhandling Japan's very own pianist prodigy and he's all set for a visit to county jail.

He gulped. It certainly didn't look appealing at all.

_Or…_

He could call in backups a.k.a. Uryu and the gang. He took out his phone, scrolling down the numbers he had on his speed dial. Pausing momentarily before he hit the 'call' button, he wondered how they would react to the call.

Normally, Uryu would answer his phone after the usual 2 missed calls, add in a snippy, lousy as hell comment and then say that it's out of his hands.

_I'm constantly being surprised and reminded of your stupidity; it never ceases to amaze me of how stupid you can be, Kurosaki. We may have grown up in hospitals and clinics. But I think there's a certain certificate both of us are missing. Here's a hint if you don't mind: Call the damn hospital._

Just like that, Ishida Uryu, beloved pianist of Shinigamis, the world's number 1 sewing freak and a geek (in Ichigo's personal _honest_ opinion) with a sense of humour as dry as the Gobi, hangs up.

He grimaced. Renji was his second choice, but ...

_Shit. You're kidding me, Kurosaki? Are you saying that the Kuchiki Rukia is alone in a condo with you? Damn. Is she hot? How would you rate her on a scale of 1 to 10? You have to tell me all about her. _

_What? She's unconscious. Oh. Just give her bowl of home-made chicken broth and she'll be up in no time. So tell me, what do you…._

And that will be Renji: the red-headed tattoo addict with the attention span of a baboon and above all, the general opinion that good-old chicken broth is mankind's answer to all forms of malady and sickness.

Kami-sama, he scowled, almost tugging out his bright strands in frustration; where's Chad when you need him!

He took another glance at the midget lying in his arms. Huffing partly in annoyance and in helplessness, he realized there was only one option left.

He's going to have to take care of the annoying brat himself.

Carefully, he shifted Rukia's weight along his arms; setting her mane of ebony strands against his chest protectively while taking care not to touch the bump. He wandered down the hallway and corridor, searching for her bedroom; since she was already down and out. It was, he mused, best if she woke up somewhere familiar to her. Her bedroom was a better choice compared to the couches.

His nose twitched as a random scent invaded his nostrils. He inhaled it, savouring its pleasant odour. His nose instinctively set out to search for the source, pausing only when he came near the midget's unconscious form.

His eyes widened in confusion. No way, how can she smell that nice? She's practically the most abusive woman he had ever laid eyes on.

He took a further risk of being pummeled by burrowing his head next to hers before taking a deep breath of the fragrance. She smelled nice; like peaches, lavender with a hint of cherry blossom along the way. It wasn't sickening sweet; nor was it vanilla plain. This was subtle, elusive with a slightest trace of refined elegance. He likened it to the scent of a true lady, regality and modesty all possessed in one single mortal visage. It was unique to the point of being beyond what words could express.

If he didn't know better, he would have said that he was already in love with that scent. He couldn't help but wonder what her secret was. Was it her perfume? Was it her shampoo?

Estee Lauren?

Chanel?

Dior?

Just what was it? Who in the world could manufacture such a delectable scent? He paused, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Since when did perfumes and cosmetics draw his attention? This was insanity.

He was losing his mind. It was definitely a mistake on his part to take up Urahara's offer. He should have bolted the first chance he had. He absolutely hated the situation at hand.

He didn't want to linger or brood over his crazy string of thoughts. In fact, they didn't even exist as far as he was concerned. He was just… distracted, yes that was the word, distracted by that annoying runt with her abusive ladle from hell.

And he was feeling guilty of toppling her, so that's why he decided to stay and keep an eye out for her. He was pleased with how the words came out. From now on, he was going to stick to that stor- I mean, truth. It wasn't exactly illegal right? He was just displaying his own sense of chivalry.

It's **not **like he enjoyed staying with the midget under one roof, heck he couldn't even last one minute without having another bruise on his lean form.

He would leave as soon as that annoying brat wakes up and not one second later. He would rather spend an eternity in a strait-jacket than another minute breathing her toxic air.

Speaking of air, he was assaulted by another strong fragrance from the said midget when he realized that his nose was dangerously close to her. He once again, shifted the weight along his arms; this time, balancing her mop of raven tresses under his chin.

_Why are you doing this? She could have lice in her hair or even… some deadly Ebola virus there… Stop! _

His mind was protesting strongly against his irrational actions; his gut instincts however were quick to add voice its own opinion, however nonsensical it may sound like.

_Because I ..I want to um…um…annoy her as payback for hitting me._ _Yeah, annoy her. By.. by um…. oh right… by wiping Hayate's drool on her face. It's **not **like I _**_enjoy_**_ smelling that disgusting midget's scent._

He mentally smacked himself. That was lame. Even for him.

_Liar! _

_S.s..shut up!_

_You know I'm right. Go take a bath, liar! You smell like shit!_

He cursed. Was he really having this conversation with himself? He blamed the midget for everything else. Being around her had zapped away the remaining rationality his brain had possessed.

He yawned. The seven hour and more plane flight left him dead tired. He would have fallen asleep as soon as his head fit the lumpy pillow had it not been for the midget's interference.

His unpleasant odour of sweat and drool made a sudden invasion towards his nostrils when he took a whiff of his arm-pits. Well, he shrugged; maybe there was some truth in that statement. He did smell somewhat like Hayate; a mixture of sweat, dog slobber and wet puddles.

He'll go take a bath when he finishes tending to that annoying runt. No, he took that back, even a runt was taller than her. Kuchiki Rukia could even make a teenage boy look like a giant. As if hearing his thoughts, Rukia's arm suddenly came up had swatted him on the chest before returning back to her previous comfortable position. He saw her snuggle deeper into his arms and resisted the urge to snap at her.

What was he now? Her mattress?

He groaned, wincing at the strong ray of sunlight entering through the uncovered windows. A quick glance at the grandfather clock told him that it was already 5 in the morning.

Fatigue suddenly seemed to be his faithful companion as his eyelids grew heavier with each step he took. He released another loud yawn. It was going to be a long long morning.

In the meantime, who's to say he can't carry that midget to her room.

Slowly.

* * *

Rukia woke up with a light groan. The morning sun light had streamed through the open window and showered the room with its bright glow. She quickly averted her eyes from the bright glare and soon found herself lying on her plush mattress, draped in a pink Chappy blanket. She pushed herself up from its warm confinement only to stare at the familiar-looking cerulean walls. A neatly arranged bookshelf was placed on the left, her dressing table opposite it; the entrance to the room barred by the presence of the intimidating chestnut-coloured door that was shut and sealed.

Her violet eyes blinked, she was back in her own room. She swung her legs over the edge of her poster bed, pausing only to touch the slight bump on her forehead. She winced slightly at the pain. When did she get the bump?

She surveyed her surroundings with unease. There was that nagging suspicion inside of her; something that told her to be wary and cautious, telling her to be careful and watch where she was stepping.

_But of what? _

Try as she may, she couldn't put her finger on the weird sensation. Instead, she started to focus her thoughts on remembering what happened before she went to bed.

_Last night?_

XXXX

She frowned. What happened last night? She had dinner around 7, courtesy of the beautiful microwave in the kitchen. Pizza if she wasn't mistaken. She spent the entire night and early morning in the studio. Oh, wait she took a 15-minute break for coffee.

_And then…_

Nothing. Absolutely nothing came to her mind about the events that transpired after her coffee break. She couldn't remember how she found herself back in the bedroom, not even the reason she opened the windows that were usually drawn shut with their violet silk curtains.

She shut her eyes tight. Looks like she needed to rephrase her question.

_What happened this morning? _

XXXX

She couldn't remember anything at all. In fact, the only thing her groggy mind could recall vividly was that she just had a surprisingly wonderfully serene nap. Completely unlike her usual 'toss-turn-wake up-and-scream'. There wasn't a single nightmare plaguing her and she couldn't even remember what time it was when she fell under the sleeping spell. But now that she mentioned it.

She must have fallen asleep around 4 in the morning. Judging by the refreshing glare of the heated sun, she had a pretty good idea of the time- which was probably around 9 to 10.

She had a whole five hours of sleep without waking up once. A smile came to play upon her lips as she stood up and gave a languid stretch. She would give anything in the world to have another peaceful, dreamless sleep like that, never mind the little almost unnoticeable bump on her forehead. She shrugged as her hand went automatically for the gleaming door-knob; maybe she just bumped herself against one of the bed posts when she was sleeping.

The very _logical_ explanation and the wonderful sleep she had relaxed her enough to keep her mind off the subject of her little bump on the head. Her mind was soon preoccupied with the promises of breakfast.

She marched out of her room with her grin firmly in place. It was always nice to follow up a nice rest with a healthy dose of home-made gourmet. A warm, healthy and delicious breakfast instead of the stale bread she had been forced-feeding herself for the past months. She hadn't had a proper home-cooked meal since she left Venice. And she was absolutely dying to have a taste of a good-old, fresh-from-the-oven English muffin.

Now just where did she put her spatula?

XXXX

The heavenly aroma of piping hot coffee and mouth-watering muffins debuted themselves in the modern-looking kitchen. With wisps of heat and smoke still steaming from the muffins' beautifully crusted surfaces, Rukia beamed before setting them down onto the kitchen's marble island to cool.

It's been ages since she last cooked herself a decent meal that didn't involve leftovers and takeaways. It was still nice to see that she hadn't lost her culinary touch. She took another deep-whiff of the delicious banana English muffins. This was one of the best ways to wake up on mornings.

She was just about to reach for her coffee mug when a foreign voice coming from the other end of the kitchen abruptly halted her movements and made her blood turn icy cold.

"Well, I _certainly_ didn't peg you for the domestic type; especially not after the bruises you gave me,"

She froze, like a deer caught in the headlights before she raised her gaze upwards.

She grimaced as she caught sight of an orange-haired man calmly striding towards her direction; an obedient-looking Shiba Inu trailing behind him, wagging the tail enthusiastically. The man must have came out from the showers since his mop of unruly ginger tresses was still damp and sticking against his toned form. She narrowed her eyes. His ocher orbs were positively crinkling with mischief; a very amused smirk that was practically screaming arrogance on his deliciously pink lips.

Who was he?

Her line of sight trailed down to his muscular but supple form. His left hand was holding onto the little terry cloth he had along his waist while his right one was at his side. His rippling six-packs were glinting in the sun and she noticed several rivulets of water –or was it the excess vapour? - casually sliding down his defined abdomen, following the carved planes of his toned body. The delicious sight was exposed entirely to her and the rest of the world as he emerged shirtless and entirely naked save the small towel that was wrapped along his waist.

The stranger strode down the hallway languidly as he made his way towards her; wholly unconcerned at his severe state of undress. He was the centre of the attention, and he knew it; maybe even revel at the attention he was getting. Were she not stunned by the sight of him, she would have had the decency to blush or even snap at him to put on some clothes instead of prancing around the condo half-naked like a Neanderthal. The sensible Rukia would also call in the security to get rid of this stranger and his dog in her house.

_Stranger? House? Security?_

Why did those words sound so damn familiar and urghh.. Why is he standing there grinning like a pompous jackass with his relaxed stance and wicked-looking body?

Why wasn't he surprised? Why wasn't he-

_Kami-sama._

Her eyes widened as realization and familiarity of the situation at hand struck her hard in the face. Memories of what had actually happened that morning came unbidden to mind. She didn't wander into her bedroom by herself. That oaf carried her.

And she certainly didn't get that infamous bump by hitting her head against the bed post. The fucking bastard tripped her.

Her mind was at a lost at what to do. Rage seemed to be flickering weakly in the morning after the fateful encounter. She didn't trust herself to talk let alone speak a coherent sentence to insult the insensitive jerk.

She slowly retreated, taking one step at a time until her back was finally leaning against the solid periwinkle-tiled wall. The fool seemed to have difficulty in understanding her inner turmoil and chose instead to advance towards her. Now, she was boxed in between that man and the kitchen walls. Her legs were shaking like jelly-Os and her knuckles were gripped so tight that crescent markings were indented on her smooth palm.

She gulped thickly; having little doubt that her face was now nothing save a mass of flaming cheeks and tightly-pressed lips. Her stomach lurched and she lost her appetite. Breakfast was all but ruined.

XXXX

_The oaf that called her fat and short was…_

_The kozo that toppled her over was…_

_The bastard that carried her to her room was…_

_That man was… was… _

"Yo, midget. Wake up. Did that bump to the head affect you so much that you can't talk? Oi! Midget. Will you fucking answer me?"

_Kurosaki Ichigo._

* * *

Ichigo frowned; she better not be having a concussion.

Mistaking her silence as the aftereffects of the little bump on her head, he leaned down, lowering his height until they were nose to nose. He placed his hands on her shoulder. She seemed to be staring into space and shaking.

His face twisted into guilt and concern. Sincerely unaware that his lips were hovering dangerously close to hers with puffs of water vapour still radiating from his unclothed form. Rukia was shuddering inside, simply shivering of panic and anxiety at their close proximity.

She wanted to move out of the way, but her legs were glued to the floor and …

And there was his steady baritone voice. It was, she struggled to find the correct word _unique_. Rangiku used to say that his voice was like chocolate- deliciously rewarding dark chocolate that you could only dream of tasting. She heard another one of his fan clubs likening his deep, seductive crooning to sex- the most expensive sort of sex, mind you, since one ticket to his concert cost $350.

It was apparently _that_ sexy.

A week ago, she would have dismissed the rabid fangirl talking with a flippant swat of her hand. But now that she finally heard it loud and clear, she wasn't entirely sure those were just fan girl drabbles that you could scoff and turn a blind eye to.

He scrunched up his eyebrows; talking in an extremely agitated tone. Did he really injure her that badly? Why wasn't she paying him any attention? Can a person go deaf from a concussion?

Guilt gnawed at him. Who the hell would volunteer to take care of her if she really did go deaf? Granted she wasn't Beethoven but she was still a pianist. She must have some use of her hearing. He tried again. This time he decided to move in closer to her ears.

Maybe she would hear him if he could whisper into her ears. It was after all, worth a shot.

XXXX

Rukia wasn't paying enough attention to the words his lips were forming. She was in a stupor, not knowing how to react to the awkward situation. Then, all of the sudden, he stopped talking. His eyes had a hard glint in them. Worse, he seemed to be leaning towards her. Very slowly, he was edging his lips towards her face.

Which part of it however, she wasn't sure.

Wait, she followed his line of sight. He seemed to be staring at her lips.

_ Is he trying to kiss me?_

She gulped thickly, watching in pure horror as his lips began inching towards hers.

What should she do now?

The sensible Rukia would move and shove him back, snap out of her self-induced trance and make formal introductions of herself. The sensible Rukia would become good friends with Kurosaki Ichigo and forget all about the embarrassing position they were sprawled in hours ago.

The sensible Rukia was a saint, an angel and above all impossibly boring.

The other nonsensical Rukia however was practically squealing with glee. Kurosaki Ichigo was, after all a rather attractive looking man, the object of lust of many female. His strong jaws, callous hands and that amazing voice. It made a lot of men in the world pale in comparison. That part of her was slightly faltered by the attention she was getting.

But this Rukia was dreamy, naïve and hopelessly fragile.

She grimaced, crinkling her pert nose in disgust. Kuchiki Rukia would and should never be associated with words like 'dreamy', 'fragile' and 'naive'. Those adjectives described something that was destined to leave her vulnerable and open; implying that she was an 'easy' target.

That wasn't her. It just wasn't done.

The clock was ticking; leaving her mere seconds to decide her course of action. She gulped thickly; shutting her eyes tight. Just as their lips were centimeters apart from each other, Rukia made a sudden reckless decision.

Consequences be damned. You do after all only live once.

Without another thought, she licked her rose-petal lips; parted them slightly.

XXXX

And screamed.

* * *

Author's Note:

Did you guys really thought she was going to kiss him? HEHE! No, she's too down-to-earth for that. Besides, Rukia wouldn't be Rukia if she doesn't ruin the moment in the dramatic way we all love to watch.

I was actually laughing at our couple's very very confusing exchange. They really do bring out the _best _in each other, don't they? *snickers* She thought he was going to kiss her, when all he wanted to do was to check her hearing.

PS I know I haven't been a very good authoress lately with my trips and writer's block. But...

I will try to post 2 chapters this month. Maybe a one-shot on July 15th or another 'Music' chapter.

PS (2) I know the pace is crawling, but I promise the next chap. would be more interesting because we have **Seireitei's Top 100 Eligible Bachelors **and Rangiku.

PPS Sorry, leedakay. I haven't reviewed your 'Thirteen Steps'. I wanted to but I was too busy. Will try to leave a review soon for chap 8, 9 and 10. :)


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